"But, oh! in this ring it is my love that
I offer,--it is my troth that I pledge!" "Miss Mordaunt, spare me the
misery of thinking that I have offended you; least of all would I do so
on this day, for it may be some little while before I see you again.
I am going home for a few days upon a matter which may affect the
happiness of my life, and on which I should be a bad son and an
unworthy gentleman if I did not consult him who, in all that concerns
my affections, has trained me to turn to him, the father; in all that
concerns my honour to him, the gentleman."

A speech more unlike that which any delineator of manners and morals in
the present day would put into the mouth of a lover, no critic in "The
Londoner" could ridicule. But, somehow or other, this poor little tamer
of butterflies and teller of fairy tales comprehended on the instant all
that this most eccentric of human beings thus frigidly left untold.
Into her innermost heart it sank more deeply than would the most ardent
declaration put into the lips of the boobies or the scamps in whom
delineators of manners in the present day too often debase the
magnificent chivalry embodied in the name of "lover."

Where these two had, while speaking, halted on the path along the
brook-side, there was a bench, on which it so happened that they had
seated themselves weeks before. A few moments later on that bench they
were seated again.

And the trumpery little ring with its turquoise heart was on Lily's
finger, and there they continued to sit for nearly half an hour;
not talking much, but wondrously happy; not a single vow of troth
interchanged. No, not even a word that could be construed into "I love."
And yet when they rose from the bench, and went silently along the
brook-side, each knew that the other was beloved.

When they reached the gate that admitted into the garden of Grasmere,
Kenelm made a slight start. Mrs. Cameron was leaning over the gate.
Whatever alarm at the appearance Kenelm might have felt was certainly
not shared by Lily; she advanced lightly before him, kissed her aunt on
the cheek, and passed on across the lawn with a bound in her step and
the carol of a song upon her lips.

Kenelm remained by the gate, face to face with Mrs. Cameron. She opened
the gate, put her arm in his, and led him back along the brook-side.

"I am sure, Mr. Chillingly," she said, "that you will not impute to my
words any meaning more grave than that which I wish them to co